


Prompt: Artist Poland

by postmanbutters



Series: Pollska 100 Followers Drabbles [2]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Awkward Flirting, First Meetings, M/M, Photography
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2019-06-20 06:06:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15527766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/postmanbutters/pseuds/postmanbutters
Summary: feliks spies a new model in the cafeteria.





	Prompt: Artist Poland

**Author's Note:**

> i opened up drabbles on my aph blog after hitting 100, so they're all here in a series! they haven't been beta read, so there may be some mistakes or errors. these also were written either 1. late at night or 2. after too much wine, soo enjoy them as they are

Feliks spotted him from across the cafeteria. He’d noticed him the second he’d walked in, really, and he wasn’t easily lost in a crowd. Tall and willowy with that perfect, wavy brown hair. Total eye-candy, honestly. He was just sitting there, reading a book, a questionable looking soup all but picked at. No one had sat next to him, he could just walk up. The cafeteria was pretty full, maybe he could pretend he had nowhere else to sit.

He sighed, drawing in a deep breath and biting his bottom lip. No, he couldn’t skirt the issue. He just had to walk right up and talk to him, even if that sounded like the most embarrassing and impossible thing on the entire planet. Feliks brushed his hand against his pant leg, smoothing any invisible wrinkles. He tucked his hair behind his ears and grabbed his book bag. It was now or never.

Maybe with a bit too much enthusiasm, he stomped across the cafeteria, ignoring everyone in his path. He was fairly short, which came in handy as he sort of shoved his way through, before finally plopping down directly next to mystery boy.

“Hi.” He said, sounding a bit breathy from his very speedy walk over.

The boy didn’t look up.

Oh, god, what a nightmare.

Would he have to say it again? Did he not hear him, or was he just ignoring him? The college students around them were loud and busy, it was possible, maybe possible, that he’d been too engrossed in his book to hear his hello. Maybe he was just bothering him. Maybe he should just go back to his seat and pretend to do homework, which was his typical routine when Erzsébet wasn’t through with her study hall.

Then, heaven seemed to take mercy on him. The boy turned, and startled.

“Oh-” He shut his book, cheeks heating up immediately, “I’m sorry, do you need this table? I can move, I was just- I mean, it’s fine if you-”

Feliks made a face, trying to keep from laughing at his strange reaction, “Um, you were here first, obviously!”

“All the same, if you need the space-”

“No! I don’t need it, I just-” And then he was the one lost for words, staring blatantly at the boy in front of him.

There was a moment that seemed to last forever in which neither said a word. Feliks was getting more embarrassed by the second, before finally spitting out: “I’m an art major. I was just wondering- I do photography- could I, like, use you sometime? I mean, for pictures, obviously. Nothing weird. Not naked or something. Totally clothed. Tasteful, y’know.”

Oh, god, that was so bad. He bit down on his bottom lip hard, as if to make himself stop blubbering like an absolute idiot. The boy looked mortified, which made everything ten times worse. Or maybe that was just the way his face looked. It was hard to tell.

“Um… I don’t know what to say.”

Feliks stood, wide eyed and blushing a dark shade of crimson, “Sorry for bugging you! Super stupid of me to, like, bother you at lunch! Just read your book, alright? That was so dumb, I’m sorry. See you around, okay?”

He was turning to run for his life, when he felt a gentle touch on his wrist. He blinked in disbelief when he found the pair of fingers belonged to a hand which belonged to an arm which belonged to that beautiful boy.

“You don’t have to go. I’m sorry, I’m just a bit shy. If you’d really like to use me for pictures, I really don’t mind.”

“Oh my god-” Feliks gushed, sitting down with a big huff of breath. Part relief and part exhaustion from the perils of socializing with strangers, “I thought I’d totally said something stupid.”

“I mean-” The boy laughed softly, tucking a strand of his hair behind his ear, “It was a little stupid. But I don’t mind. I get it.”

Feliks covered his face with his hands and groaned, “Let’s start over, okay?” He looked up, and put out his small, perfectly manicured hand, “I’m Feliks.”

The boy took his hand in his and he was surprised to feel callouses. He liked that. “I’m Tolys.”

Feliks couldn’t help but grin cheekily, shaking his hand enthusiastically, “Hi Tolys. What do you do?”

“I’m majoring in horticulture.” Tolys let his hand fall after a moment, his face looking somewhat amused at their slightly more smooth introductions.

“Cool, I have, like, no idea what that means,” Feliks laughed, “I major in taking pictures, and I wanna take pictures of you, are you in?”

“It’s just, uh, plant stuff. And, I can’t imagine why, but if I suit your project, I don’t see why not.”

Before Feliks could stop himself, he scoffed, “Can’t imagine why? Are you kidding me! You look like a model. You’re, like, statuesque. For real.”

Tolys was laughing, and then he was blushing, “That’s silly.”

Feliks grabbed his hands and looked him dead in the eye, “Tolys. I am deadly serious. For real.”

“I guess I didn’t realize how-” Tolys was snickering, “How grave the situation was.”

“Oh, it’s super grave. So you better show me where you do your plant stuff, and then maybe I’ll take pictures of you with them. Do you grow flowers?”

“Sometimes.”

“Okay, well, text me where they are and I’ll meet you there tomorrow at lunch. Wear this sweater again, okay?” He pulled out a pen as he spoke, taking it from the front pouch of his book bag. It was a metallic gel pen that seemed very superfluous for college classes.

He took Tolys’ arm again and wrote F-E-L-I-K-S in capital letters, then beneath it, his phone number.

“Don’t wash your hands, I guess. See you there!”

Tolys looked down at his arm, frowning as he scanned the looping handwriting, hoping it was legible enough for him to copy down onto paper, because he certainly would be washing his hands.

Feliks was gone before he looked up again, and then he was alone with his books and weird soup. He felt like a hurricane had just blew through his specific lunch table, but everything around him was just continuing on as normal, students talking, yelling, studying. He would’ve thought he’d imagined the entire encounter if it weren’t for the ink left behind.

The situation was very grave, so he would be calling. He would definitely be calling.


End file.
